


Hear You Me

by cleverfics (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cleverfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And if you were with me tonight,<br/>I’d sing to you just one more time.<br/>A song for a heart so big,<br/>God wouldn’t let it live.”</p><p>a one-shot about two young lovers; one who’s died and one who has to learn to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hear You Me

**Author's Note:**

> might want to give the song Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World a listen!

_It was exceptionally dark and Louis didn’t know where he was. In the cold of the night he shivered against the wind and crossed his arms over his chest, huddling into himself to keep warm. His teeth chattered relentlessly and his hot breath collided with the chilly air around him, white fog escaping his purpling lips._

_A tall figure came up beside him then, resting a thick corduroy jacket over the bulk of his shoulders. Louis looked up to see the familiar curly haired lad with the green eyes; yes, the one who made his heart clench in his chest at just the sight of him. As Harry slid the jacket on him, slipping his arms through each sleeve, the skin of their fingers brushed; sending chills down Louis’ spine. He craved to feel the warmth of Harry again. It had been too long since he’d held Harry’s hand in his own, or felt the surge of blood rush to Harry’s face as he blushed when he cupped his cheek, or felt the softness of those brown locks of hair as he twined the curls through his fingers._

_As if right on cue, the atmosphere around them changed, sparking and tugging at Louis’ mind. Distant memories of touches from the past danced around them then, lighting up the night sky with their vibrant smiles and the glimmer in their eyes. Hesitant fingers pointed to and tried to touch the miracle they were seeing. They drew closer, as if this was truly rekindling everything they’d lost._

_“It’s us, Lou,” Harry murmured in awe, recollecting everything. Visionaries of their first date, first kiss, first_ love _crossed in front, around, and between them. Memories unfolded before their eyes and their expressions changed with each tangible moment that whirled around in front of them. Nights shared, arguments that ended in kisses, birthdays past; a love story. Two blokes that made it together, co-writing the love story that consumed their lives._

_Harry’s hands dipped down to meet Louis’, centerfold between the two of them. Palms pressed against palms, fingers interlocked with fingers; two boys in love bound together in a fantasy world that was both empty yet filled all around them. Louis leaned in first, taking in the scent of Harry that he’d come to miss. He was in close enough to bury his nose in the crook of Harry’s neck; he was close enough to feel his cheek pressed against his warm body, just like before. Being this close to him again panged Louis’ heart that resided in his aching chest._

_Oh how his chest had been aching after all of this; after going through hell and back in the sick nightmare that the two of them lived. The pining and the hurting and the crying that they had done, all for it to be ripped away from them in an instant. Afraid that those memories might come to life around them as well, Louis shoved the thoughts from his mind and promised to save them for another time. Another time when he wasn’t with Harry, so not to ruin this memory in itself._

A memory of memories _. The thought of it made him smile and force a slight giggle to escape Louis’ lips as he continued to venture in toward Harry._

_“What’s so funny?” Harry asked softly. Instead of answering, Louis just shrugged him off as he was too busy soaking in the symphony of sound that was Harry’s voice; thick like velvet but smooth like silk as it drifted in the air between them._

_Hands still woven together between their racing chests, Harry closed the space that kept their lips apart._

  The second their lips met Louis awoke with a startle, jerking himself upward in bed, and gasping for air. Whines hurled their way from the back of his throat and his body wracked with sobs that he muffled with a pillow. He could still feel the fullness of Harry’s lips against his own and his tongue yearned to explore his familiar mouth once more. He closed his hands, grasping at nothing but relishing the feeling of Harry’s hands closed around his own.

  The fact of the matter was that Harry was taken from him too soon. He was taken from him before Louis had gotten to hold him or kiss him or laugh with him as much as he wanted to. He was taken from him before they got to grow old together with wrinkles and greying hair and rocking chairs. Harry was taken from Louis, and Louis just couldn’t cope.

  Liam, awoken by the massacre of sobs that ripped their way out of Louis, came rushing into the room. He caught a glimpse of his best friend trembling and choking on the tears that stained his cheeks. Liam’s eyes grew watery too as he pulled Louis into his chest, hugging him tightly and whispering over and over again that everything was going to be okay; that _Louis_ was going to be okay. But was he? Were any of them? There was a fiery pain that inflamed Liam’s own chest at the thought of them trying to move on without their best mate, Harry, and he didn’t want to imagine what it must be like for Louis. What was Louis supposed to do without the other half of his heart, the missing piece to his puzzle, the hand that fit perfectly in his own, the one person who could finish his sentences?

  “It’s only been five days,” Louis choked out. Liam nodded, waiting for him to carry on. “Five days since I lost him, Li. _Five days_. How am I supposed to go on like this _forever_?”

  For the first time, Liam didn’t have an answer.

  He rested his cheek atop Louis’ head and hummed an incessant tune to calm the older boy as his body quivered and quaked in hysteria. They stayed like this for the rest of that night, Liam rubbing circles into Louis’ back to soothe him. Soon Louis had cried himself to sleep on Liam’s shoulder, tears drying up and leaving Liam’s shirt a salty mess.

~

  Louis sat in the front pew with his hands folded neatly in his lap. The ceremony was long over, but he couldn’t pry his hands apart and he couldn’t tear his eyes from where they’d narrowed in on a spot on the wall. What spot exactly, he couldn’t really tell; he’d been looking for so long that his vision blurred and everything around him became fuzzy. Harry’s funeral was over. Harry was gone. But this wasn’t it for Louis. No, this wasn’t even close to the closure he definitely _didn’t_ need.

  Louis, as busy as he kept himself in the nothing that he was doing right then, longed to go home and bake Harry’s favourite cookies and set out two glasses of milk for the two of them and perhaps watch their worn copy of _Love Actually_ once more, because that’s what Harry would want to do on a Sunday evening. Louis wanted to go home and wash Harry’s laundry like he had been doing for years now and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to purposely mess up the flat a little so Harry would make that sour face Louis had grown accustomed to when he walked into an untidy living room. Louis wanted to go home to Harry.

  The entire chapel was empty, save for Louis and a couple of lit candles around where the glossy black casket had been not too long ago. The wind breezed through a crack in a nearby stained-glass window, whistling noisily. After a few more minutes—or perhaps it was mere seconds, hell, maybe even hours; time meant nothing to Louis anymore—of sitting around, eyes piercing the wall in front of him, fingers enclosed around one another, a new rhythm besides the music of the wind drifting through the small villa chapel sounded. Louis grew aware of the shuffling of footsteps growing closer and closer to him, but he didn’t look back, or even flinch for that matter, almost as though he was afraid to draw his eyes from the wall in front of him.

  A hand was set on Louis’ shoulder, and perhaps it was meant to comfort him, but in reality it served nothing more than _dis_ comfort. Louis didn’t check to see who it was that had joined him, but he wasn’t surprised to have heard Zayn’s voice speak from beside him after his raven-haired friend took a seat next to him.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Lou,” he offered, sounding rather unsure of himself. Louis could hear the truth seeping from behind his words and he knew it wasn’t. He was really growing sick of people telling him that, because he sure as hell wasn’t being fooled. Just as Louis had suspected, Zayn gave him a watery smile, corresponding tears brimming his eyes.

  “I…I don’t….I don’t know what to do.” Louis choked out. His throat felt sore and swollen, but perhaps that was because he was trying to force down the lump that grew there with the treacherous sob that threatened to escape. Louis swallowed hard and bat his lashes twice to blink away the stray tears that resided there, looking over at Zayn expectantly.

  “Come on,” Zayn said, standing up and pulling Louis to his feet as well. He reached out and grabbed Louis’ hand, twining their fingers together. All the while as Zayn walked him down the narrow aisle of the chapel, squeezing his hand for comfort, Louis couldn’t help but think of how he wished it was Harry’s slender fingers that he felt locked within his own.

~

  On Monday his mum had come knocking at his door. Louis quietly wondered if she had brought his group of lovely sisters with her, but he would never know, because he never answered. He didn’t get up to let her in, nor did he even call out a simple reply to ensure her that he was okay when she called out sweetly, “Louis, love, it’s mum. Can you let me in?” or “How are you doing, babe?” or “Can I see you?”

  Louis just didn’t answer; he didn’t have it in him.

  On Tuesday it was Zayn who came knocking. He was just as caring and thoughtful with his words as his mother was, in fact, he even brought her up as he called through the door, “I saw Jay, babes, ‘said to see if you’re alright,” and “Please Louis, let me in.”

  But Louis didn’t answer; he didn’t have it in him.

  By Wednesday Louis wasn’t surprised to have heard Liam come knocking. He didn’t mention his mother, he didn’t even mention Zayn. Liam just cried. Louis could hear each whine that escaped his mate’s lips, and he swore he could even hear every tear that trickled down his cheeks and fell to the floor. “Come on, Lou,” he called out desperately, his voice hoarse from hours spent pent up against the door to Louis and Harry’s flat.

  Still, Louis didn’t answer; he didn’t have it in him.

  “Can you keep a secret?” He heard Niall say on the fourth day after a few subtle knocks against the grains of wood that kept Louis separated from anyone and everyone. This was new, but Louis bit his tongue so not to respond. “I went to visit Harry today.”

  Louis shot upward, jumping off the floor where he had been nestled in a blanket with a small pillow beneath him, right in front of the door where his countless visitors had knocked just days prior. With fumbling fingers, he unlatched the lock, coming face to face with his blonde haired friend. His cheeks were flushed pink and his blue eyes were glistening; but Louis guessed that his own were too.

  “You…what?” Louis asked, realizing that this was the first time he’d spoken since Sunday, apart from calling out Harry’s name in his sleep. This was the first time he’d stood up, the first time he’d even _moved_.

  “I uh, went to see him. At the cemetery.” Niall admitted aloud once more. He waited patiently to see if Louis was going to say anything back, but he just stood there, frozen, like a dear in the headlights. “Louis, I think you should go.”

  “You can’t possibly think—no—there’s no need—I can’t—”

  “Shh, calm down,” Niall cooed, wrapped his arms around Louis and pulling him in tight. He didn’t let go until Louis’ breathing settled and even then he opted to continue holding onto his fragile friend.

  “What was it like.” It was meant to be a question; however Louis stated the words like a demand. His hands were trembling at his sides and Niall grew worried again, extending his arms out to grasp onto Louis’ soft, tanned forearms.

  “It was quiet. It was quiet and calm and nice. It felt like for the first time in much too long I’d been able to sit down and have a chat with him, y’know,” Niall explained. He looked up to Louis, and reached a hand up to catch a tear that fell from the older boy’s eye. Niall knew how hard this was for Louis, and it was breaking his heart to see how much Louis’ heart was broken.

  “You just _talked_ to him?”

  “Well you don’t _have_ to talk. You can do whatever you want, Lou. You can just think, or even sing, if that’s what you feel is right.” Niall sounded a hundred years older than his nineteen, and with comforting hands that side swept  soothing circles on Louis’ skin as he spoke, he managed to put a crack in the walls Louis had recently built up around himself.

  For the first time this week Louis regretted not answering the door when his mum, Liam, or Zayn had come knocking, however he didn’t have time to dwell on that, as Niall had him showered, changed, and fed, before taking him right to the cemetery.

~

  Louis was holding a bouquet of flowers in hand when he came face to face with a headstone that had the name ‘Styles’ engraved on it in a simple font. There was no grass in front of it like every other plot that marked each passed person there, just a pile of dirt that was even with the ground, marking a new burial at the site. An addition to the collection; a new person lying here to rest for eternity with family and friends back home mourning the loss of him, or perhaps refusing to get over him entirely. Louis himself was the latter, though he wouldn’t admit to it.

_“You have to let me go, Louis,” Harry whispered in the coldness of the night. His hot breath lingered in the air around them. Air that wasn’t tainted with images of their past. Just cold, dark, night._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louis refused, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. He hugged himself in closer for warmth, but the fact that he’d done it to protest Harry’s pleas is what mattered._

_“I know you love me, but you can’t keep yourself locked away forever,” Harry was desperate now; his velvety voice cracked under pressure. “This isn’t good for you, Lou. You need to be strong; healthy and normal. Go on with your life—”_

_Louis put up a hand to silence him but Harry only took it in his own, kissing the roof of his hand._

_“Enough of this, it’s time to move on. Let me go, Lou.”_

  Louis ripped his thoughts away from the dream that he didn’t want to recall. He still denied it. There was nothing to get over, nothing to do from here. Louis was perfectly content with sleeping away the misery and thinking about all the times he shared with Harry in the off hours that he spent awake and staring at the ceiling above him.

  With each step he took closer to the grave his feet grew heavier and heavier, but with sluggish steps of ambition he finally got there. He collapsed to his knees in the dirt as everything set in. This was his Harry now. This is where his Harry would be forever.

  Suddenly, Louis found his voice.

  “I can’t believe you left.” He sighed in defeat. “I can’t believe I’m never going to get to bring you breakfast in bed again, or go out on the porch and watch the sunset with you, or see your curls flop all over the place after you wake up, or hear you laugh at me for taking a hot bath, or splash water at you for doing so. I just can’t believe it Harry…I just can’t.

  “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that we’ll never get to do those things again, but every time I try to fight this I realize I’m fighting a useless battle because you’re gone and there really is _nothing_ I can do about it.

  “How could you leave me? What am I supposed to do without you? I love you. We were supposed to grow old together. We were supposed to make another album, me, you, and the boys. We were supposed to fly out to America on your twenty-first birthday for a legal drink and a couple of slots in Vegas. We were supposed to have it all together. We were supposed to be enlightened by the laughter of children— _our children_. Grandchildren maybe, too. All of it, me and you.

  “But I get it, I get it. It’s not about what we were _supposed_ to do. I should be cherishing what we _did_ do, and believe me, I have been. But it wasn’t enough. I don’t think I could have ever had enough of your laugh or your smile or the glimmer in your eyes. I never could have had enough of the feeling of your hair tickling my cheek when we would lay together, or the feeling of your skin burning in the best way possible against my own. And I guess that’s why I can’t get over you, Harry, because I never wanted you to leave in the first place.”

  Louis’ breath caught in his throat, and he couldn’t go on. He couldn’t talk about this anymore, but that was okay. He didn’t need to say everything, because he was sure that Harry already knew, because Harry always just _knew_. His hand rested on the corner of the headstone and his knees dug deeper into the soil as he shifted his weight.

  “I um…wanted to sing for you.” Louis began, suddenly growing nervous. “Just one last time.”

  He paused, taking in a deep breath and raking it through his entire body before going on. A jolt of electricity flared up his bones and through each vein before he began. 

 

> “ _There’s no one in town I know_
> 
> _You gave us some place to go._
> 
> _I never said thank you for that._
> 
> _I thought I might get one more chance._
> 
> _What would you think of me now,_
> 
> _So lucky, so strong, so proud?_
> 
> _I never said thank you for that,_
> 
> _Now I’ll never get the chance.”_

  Louis all but melted, his voice was shaky and his hands were clammy against the granite, and he wasn’t sure he could go on. Tears streaked down his pale face and a chill of wind gusted through the cemetery, taking the autumn leaves with it.

 

>   _“May angels lead you in._
> 
> _Hear you me my friends._
> 
> _On sleepless roads the sleepless go._
> 
> _May angels lead you in._
> 
> _So what would you think of me now,_
> 
> _So lucky, so strong, so proud?_
> 
> _I never said thank you for that,_
> 
> _Now I’ll never have a chance.”_

He cried, streaming tears fell from his eyes one after another, but he never stopped. Instead his eyes fluttered shut and his grip tightened on the rock that held him up, and he pictured Harry there with him.

  He pictured that perfect dream just days ago, when memories flashed before their eyes all around them. He imagined all those times he saw Harry blush, even better so he imagined all those times that perhaps _he_ was the reason for Harry blushing; rosy cheeked and doe-eyed, hair falling in front of his flushed face. He imagined the simpler times, like when they would take a walk in the park. Nothing extravagant; just a simple stroll down the lean pathway as the autumn leaves fell from the trees and danced their way to the ground. He imagined all those times he had taken Harry back with him to Doncaster, watching his family fall in love with him just as he had. He imagined the one night he and Harry spotted a shooting star, and made a wish that at the time seemed not so farfetched; to spend their entire lives together, a never faltering love that could have lasted for eternity.

  With moments like these flickering and playing before his closed eyes, closure fell upon him, pushing its way through his veins with each and every beat of his heart. Each and every beat of the heart that would forever belong to Harry.

 

> _“May angels lead you in._
> 
> _Hear you me my friends._
> 
> _On sleepless roads the sleepless go._
> 
> _May angels lead you in.”_

  Louis voice broke and he gulped, swallowing hard before finding the strength in him to finally finish the song.

> _“And if you were with me tonight,_
> 
> _I’d sing to you just one more time._
> 
> _A song for a heart so big,_
> 
> _God wouldn’t let it live._
> 
> _May angels lead you in._
> 
> _Hear you me my friends._
> 
> _On sleepless roads the sleepless go._
> 
> _May angels lead you in.”_

And with that Louis let his hands slide down the buffed granite, his fingertips feeling over the words engraved on the surface for the first and perhaps the last time. “I love you,” he mumbled out the words he had never been shy of before setting the flowers that he still held down on the ground before him.

  He pulled himself to his feet and after steadying himself he wiped his eyes dry of the tears that had collected there, and made way back to the car, stopping once, only to turn back and whisper, “ _Goodbye, Harry_.”


End file.
